Antidote Abridged Version
by kidavi
Summary: The sequel to POISON fic. Dante x Vergil. Guro, twincest. Abridged. Full NC17 version on AFF
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** This story, **Antidote**, is the sequel to the DMC fanfic entitled **Poison**. The sequence of events is connected in a linear fashion; _Antidote_ begins a few hours after the conclusion of _Poison_.

**This is the abridged version of _Antidote_. **In the same vein as the abridged _Poison_ that is posted here on FF, the last few chapters have been cut to prevent innocent eyes from being seared blind by senseless, vengeful, obscenely violent smut. Again, like _Poison_, the full version is hosted on AFF under penname kidavi. **_Antidote_ contains references to the full version of _Poison_; if you haven't read all 8 chapters + the epilogue of Poison, you will not get some of these references.**

**WARNING: **This _abridged version of_ _Antidote_ contains warnings for: extreme violence / guro, twincest (incest between twins), weapons bondage, and asphyxiation.

The _full lemon version of Antidote_ contains extreme violence / guro, twincest (incest between twins), weapons bondage, asphyxiation, and hardcore yaoi.

**Disclaimer:** Characters are the sole property of Capcom's Devil May Cry franchise and are being used (and abused) in naughty ways without permission.

**Story Context:** This story takes place shortly after Devil May Cry 3 and _requires_ you to be familiar with the characters, story, weapons, and conclusion. There are references in the story that you won't get unless you've played DMC3 in its entirety.

The story contains spoilers for DMC3, so if you plan on playing the game (or are playing but haven't finished), you may not want to read this fanfic just yet.

**Final Note: **Please comment / review, and I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter I

He was dying.

She had cleaned and dressed the wounds as best she could, but the bandages had been saturated scarlet within minutes. Add to that the shocking smears that stained the floor and desk, she knew he had lost too much blood— even for a demon.

And now he was dying.

She knew from the cold pallor of his cheeks, the icy stiffness of his fingers in her hand; had she done everything she could? The panic she had been fighting down for the last several hours had worn her thin and ragged; clutching Dante's cold hand in her own warm one, Lady tried to gather her fragmented thoughts together.

She felt no hesitation in attributing the situation to Vergil.

It was true that, when she had seen him leave, the elder twin had claimed he wasn't responsible for poisoning Dante, and she had believed him— she still believed him. But there was no doubt in her mind that her companion was now dying from wounds inflicted by Vergil's sword Yamato.

Was the twisted older Sparda twin just torturing them both? She remembered Vergil's words clearly:

_He needs your help. He and I have a date to keep…_

But Dante was going to die before that date. Right now, she couldn't see any way around that. She allowed herself to consider calling an ambulance for a few seconds, but the fleeting thought was ridiculous. What could mortal medicine possibly do for a poisoned half-demon?

She knew firsthand what Dante's demon blood was capable of. She had shot him in the head herself, fought with him… her hatred for devils in general wouldn't permit her to be envious of his healing ability, but it was usually a comforting thought to know that he wouldn't go down easily in a fight.

That had changed now though.

She wondered how he'd been poisoned in the first place; and she wondered why Vergil had attacked him while he was weak. Through her own experience and what little she could gather from Dante himself, she thought she knew just enough about the older twin to be confident in his honor.

She had thought. _I was wrong_, came the bitter realization, as she watched the shallow, uneven rise and fall of Dante's chest.

Her thoughts were becoming muddled now, and her nerves were shot. Her back was stiff and her knees hurt from kneeling for hours on the hard floor. Hopelessness was settling, cold and heavy, into her gut. Almost unconsciously, she let go of Dante's hand; it dropped heavily over the edge of the battered couch. Lady curled her legs up to her chest and leaned back against the stiff leather. She rested her forehead on her knees and felt a few tears squeeze themselves out from beneath her lashes.

She heaved a sigh that stuck in her throat and came out as a choked sob. _Stay awake_, she demanded of herself, though sleep was tugging insistently at her.

_Stay awake…_

o-o-o

"You know, if you just came over here to sleep, you could've crawled into bed with me," came a cocky voice from above her.

Her grogginess clearing in an instant, Lady's head snapped up; she stared, dumbfounded, at Dante, who was standing over her grinning.

Lady felt her jaw drop. He was still shirtless, but the bandages were gone— and there wasn't a mark on him. No trace of injury scarred his perfectly muscled torso… she quickly averted her eyes before (she hoped) he caught her gaping.

He crouched in front of her, and her gaze wandered back over his face. His expression was uncharacteristically tender; his usually piercing blue eyes glowed softly silver. "Thanks," he said simply. For once, his voice held none of its usual over-the-top swagger.

Lady felt her heart flutter somewhere in the region of her throat, the memory of a distant and well-kept promise tickling the back of her brainstem…

(…_Now, because of you, I know what I have to do…_ _Don't worry, I'll make things right for you— that's what _my_ soul is telling me to do_.)

She felt her cheeks grow warm under his gaze. "Well, I'm glad you're okay," she managed lamely.

"Thanks to you," he said, standing again.

"Not really," she protested. "I… couldn't really do much." It was painful to admit, but at least he seemed fine now.

"Nah, you cared." He turned and walked toward the blood-stained desk. "Turns out that was enough, I guess," he said; she noticed with a twinge of irritation that the typical maddening nonchalance had crept back into his demeanor.

Lady felt herself smile; she remained sitting on the hard floor, leaning against the couch (her legs were weak with relief; she doubted they'd support her if she tried to stand) as she watched Dante mill about the office.

He was scuffing his boot on the blood-stained floor, examining the dried gore on the desk in disgust.

"Sonuvabitch," Lady heard him mumble under his breath.

He was stalking over to the rack where she had hung his bloody jacket that morning (was it night again already?); he plucked it from its hook, examined it, and cursed softly again.

Lady's blood was starting to run colder now; a suppressed rage was slowly pervading the room as Dante stalked back and forth, collecting his scattered belongings: his holster harness, Ebony and Ivory. Every move seemed to grow angrier and more abrupt. By the time he practically ripped his sword off the wall, the demonic aura was palpable in the air.

He was opening the front door before Lady could summon the courage to ask:

"Dante… where are you going…?"

He paused but didn't look back at her. "For a drink," he growled… then slammed the door behind him so hard the windowpanes rattled and glass cracked.

In spite of herself, Lady sighed in relief as the heavy atmosphere melted away. She stood up stiffly and rolled her eyes— she should have known he would leave her to clean up this gory mess.

As her gaze traveled around the room taking in the damage, she noticed Rebellion was still hanging in its allotted place on the wall. The empty hook next to it… which sword had he taken?

Lady frowned to herself as Vergil's final comment from yesterday drifted back to her.

"_He and I have a date to keep… and make sure to remind him to bring Father's sword to the party."_

Of course, Lady hadn't had a chance to tell Dante of her exchange with his brother; all the same, it didn't seem to matter now.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

It had occurred to Dante that he had no idea where to find Vergil, but the thought wasn't a nagging one at the time. He'd been all fire and brimstone when he left, his newly replenished demonic blood pounding in his ears.

He had been confident that his brother would just _appear_, materialize, if you will, if he simply showed up with Force Edge and the amulet. Such were his thoughts muddled by indignant demonic rage… driven by revenge.

He scowled now though, a blanket of frustration settling over him.

A painful thought sprang spontaneously into his mind's eye: seven years ago, Vergil would have frowned at him and told him his hot-headedness was an affliction, not a virtue. He would have folded his arms and peered imperiously down his nose at his younger twin, and Dante would have grinned sheepishly at his exasperated sibling.

The remembrance felt like needles under his skin and he tried to shake it off. As he stood noncommittally atop the rubble where the Temen-Ni-Gru had crumbled back into the ground months before, he resisted the urge to yell, to scream for Vergil to show himself.

There was nothing for it though, of course… he had no choice but to head back. Perhaps he would stop by Love Planet (reopen now after extensive renovations) and drink himself into oblivion in pleasurable company.

A pang of something resembling guilt prodded him at this; he probably owed it to Lady to return and at least offer her some sort of half-assed explanation.

Although he had known all along that a good sleep was the cure for his poisoning, Lady had bound his wounds and obviously agonized over his condition for a decent time before falling asleep at his side. He derived some brief pleasure from her concern for him, but he had utterly no desire to divulge the events of the night to her; he could barely recall them himself without feeling a bitter, humiliated flush creep up his cheeks.

He was desperate for a stiff drink now; clearing the jagged rubble in a single leap, he landed catlike on the shattered sidewalk below and stalked his way angrily down the street toward the Bullseye.

_Bastard, Vergil_… whatever sickness was twisting its way through his brother's mind, he would beat it out of him.

Dante remembered the surprise and relief that had washed over him at the realization that his brother wasn't dead, wasn't trapped for eternity in the demonic realm… even through his poisoned haze, even through the sword that had so easily parted his flesh and organs, he had been glad.

But now… his platonic reminiscences were being muscled away by loathing. Had his esteemed elder twin been completely consumed by his own pursuit of power? And just how the _hell_ had he gotten out of that mess?

It wasn't normally in Dante's nature to agonize or dwell on matters; but he couldn't just blast and hack his way out of the maze Vergil was building around him now.

He really needed that drink…

The wind rustled in his hair and swept a cool breath across his cheek. It may not have been a moonless night, but stormclouds were sweeping the sky, and Dante felt a few drops of cold rain on his face. The chilling air did wonders for his turmoil, and he halted and stood for a moment, face titled upward into the night air.

He sensed a slow movement in the shadows, and without turning to look, he smiled up at the sky.

So he had come after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

Languidly, Dante shifted his gaze down the darkened street as Vergil emerged slowly from the shadows, his face the usual stony mask, Yamato held casually at his hip.

"Nice of you to show up, but it doesn't look like you brought drinks this time either," said the younger twin.

"My mistake, I thought it was your turn to play the gracious host," replied the elder.

"I hosted the last one… don't you remember?" Force Edge was out; he was peering down its glinting edge at Vergil. "You don't seem to be in a hurry tonight, so let's play one more game."

Vergil didn't move. "Of course you'll have no objections when I defeat you and take Father's sword and your amulet."

"Always the greedy one, aren't you, Verge?" Dante goaded. "But I won't complain— _if_ you can defeat me."

Vergil drew Yamato methodically from its sheath with a metallic scrape. "I hope you've recovered your strength, Dante. I won't show you mercy this time," he said in a low voice.

Something boiled over in Dante's chest at this, spilling a little uncontrolled rage. "You bastard, you don't know what mercy is," he spat, struggling to keep his voice from rising. He forced a calm breath; his twin only stared at him, Yamato held in readiness.

"Have it your way then," Vergil said simply, and flexed forward, springing toward his brother with agility born of the devil himself, raindrops scattering around him.

o-o-o

Vergil knew immediately that Dante had regained all of his previous strength, and probably some extra, spawned from the humiliation and outrage he had suffered the night before; Yamato's blade rang as it clashed with Force Edge, and the two brothers strained and glared into eachothers eyes over the sheen of their swords.

"How far have you fallen, Vergil?" Dante ground out between gritted teeth, his eyes wide and piercing.

The older twin blinked through the rain that was plastering his hair to his forehead; his knuckles were whitening with effort on Yamato's hilt. "Farther than you know," he whispered, staring back into Dante's wide eyes.

They broke apart and stood glaring at eachother for a moment, and then it was a whirl of flashing steel and skidding boots as the blades whistled through the air; Vergil felt Yamato's tip pierce his brother's side as Force Edge sliced a gash across his right thigh.

He jumped back and Dante did the same; they were both panting slightly, their breath visible in the cold autumn rain. They circled eachother cautiously, both blades glinting as the raindrops scattered across their surfaces.

This time the younger twin charged first, and as Vergil twisted away, he brought Yamato's steel hilt down, hard, across his brother's hand. Force Edge slipped out of Dante's grasp, but as Vergil withdrew his arm to make room to plunge Yamato into his brother's chest, there was a whir of crystal and one of Cerberus' ice-cold prongs blinded him from the side, strewing stars across his vision, sending him crashing to the wet pavement.

Blood was pouring from his temple, blinding him; he somersaulted backwards as he sensed rather than saw Dante's consecutive combo slicing down from above him; the sanchaku struck the concrete and sent shards ricocheting.

Vergil allowed himself to sink to one knee and glared through the streaming blood and pouring rain at his younger twin.

Dante picked Force Edge up off the sidewalk and stowed the blade on his back; Cerberus dangled menacingly from his other hand as he plucked Ebony from her holster and leveled the barrel at Vergil's head.

"Just because Yamato's the only weapon you carry doesn't mean I play by the same rules," he asserted forcefully, and pulled the trigger once.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

Vergil's head snapped back as the slug dove into his skull; Dante watched with satisfaction as his twin brother's body crumpled backward onto the concrete with a wet thud.

Of course that wouldn't kill him; but maybe it would piss him off a little. He rested Ebony against his shoulder and twirled Cerberus almost lazily as he waited for his brother to recover.

Vergil grunted as he sat up and gingerly climbed back to his feet. His face was shining with scarlet blood, but the ragged wounds from Cerberus and Ebony were already closing neatly, fading into smooth pale skin. A muscle twitched in his jaw; Dante grinned and fired three rounds into his twin's chest.

Vergil made no move to avoid the shots; he took them full on and barely wavered a step as blood seeped across his vest and dripped onto the ground at his feet.

Dante holstered Ebony and shifted Cerberus to his other hand as his brother took a step forward; however, before he could react, Vergil had hurled Yamato, javelin-fashion, at his torso; the blade pierced his body and he staggered backwards, slipping on the rain-slick pavement.

In an instant, Vergil was on him, pressing a heavy foot against Yamato's hilt, using the sword to pin him to the ground. Dante gasped, and he could feel his heart beating wildly around the cold steel blade skewering his chest.

"You don't have a monopoly on unconventionalism, brother," Vergil murmured, removing his foot from the hilt, gripping it firmly in his hand and twisting brutally.

A fountain of blood showered them both as Vergil removed the blade swiftly; the rain was now carrying streams of crimson along as it rattled down the street gutters.

The two brothers were still for a pregnant moment; Dante absently watched his own blood slide down Yamato's blade and drop with the rain onto the ground, where it traveled in little red rivulets along the sidewalk. Vergil seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as well; it rather looked like he was studying the toes of his boots.

The sound of the rain had risen to a dull roar; thunder rumbled in the sky above them, and a crack of lightning startled both brothers; as if on cue, Dante leapt to his feet as Vergil jumped back a pace, their broken concentrations reknitting.

"Give me the sword and amulet, Dante," Vergil said; his voice was hoarse and Dante could barely hear him over the pounding rain.

"So you can unleash yourself on humanity!" he called back, willing his voice to be heard as thunder rent the air again. "No fucking way! Go to hell!"

"Dante! You must!"

Was there desperation in Vergil's tone now? Dante scowled; was his brother so consumed by greed that he was pleading? It made no sense to him, but he didn't bother to think too hard on it; Vergil's unending lust for power had been too disillusioning.

The weather had escalated to a full-blown gale; the brothers bent their bodies against it as their jackets whipped around them and wet hair stung their faces.

"Two thous— returned to—ower! I need—feat him!"

Vergil was yelling again, but Dante couldn't hear his brother's words over the howling wind and thunder. He tried to shout, "_What!_" but his voice was whipped away by the gale, and Vergil had apparently decided the discussion was over; he was rushing at him again, Yamato parting the sheets of rain before him.

o-o-o

As the katana clashed against Cerberus, Vergil was briefly thankful that the wind had carried his voice away before his warning about Mundus could reach Dante's ears. The matter was his to deal with; no doubt if he failed, the demonic prince would seek his twin out; but let Dante delude himself until then.

Vergil's eyes narrowed in resurfacing contempt as he parried his younger twin's quick succession of blows. Dante was whoring himself out to humans, and his weakness would only allow a rise in a different dark power.

Vergil clenched his teeth in concentration. He had been bound by a selfish pride last night, but he was not so hindered now; he would rip Sparda's power from his brother's body tonight.

With renewed zeal, he rained a flurry of unrelenting blows on his younger twin, and with a final upward slash, knocked Cerberus out of Dante's hands; he slid Yamato's unyielding blade into his brother's stomach, laying him open and spilling a torrent of fresh blood on the ground between them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

As hot blood spilled over their hands, they both reached for the amulet that hung around Dante's neck.

Dante was slightly quicker though— Vergil's cold fingers closed around his warm ones.

"You've lost— again," Vergil growled. "Just—"

Dante pressed Ivory's barrel into his brother's abdomen. "Just what?" he panted, still clutching the amulet tightly with his other hand, his brother's fist clasped over his own. He could feel his strength draining from exertion, but he was still able to empty half a clip into Vergil's stomach.

His older twin's body jerked and sagged against him, but Vergil didn't relinquish his grasp on Dante's clenched fist. Unbalanced, the two toppled over and landed heavily on the concrete in an ungraceful display of splattering blood and flailing limbs.

The hole Vergil had opened in his stomach wasn't closing itself, but Dante saw, with grim satisfaction, that the bullet wounds in his twin's abdomen were still oozing porously as well.

Muscles strained and burned and jaws clenched; the rain pounded around the deadlocked twins as they glared into eachothers faces, still grasping and vying for the amulet.

There was a clatter as Vergil dropped Yamato and released his grip on his brother's fist—Dante felt two ice cold hands clamp themselves tightly around his throat. He still didn't dare let go of the amulet, but he raised Ebony and viciously pistol-whipped his brother across the temple with its heavy black barrel.

o-o-o

Vergil grimaced in pain and his vision momentarily fled him at the impact; he tasted blood as he bit his lip, gritting his teeth as he poured all of his remaining strength into crushing his twin's windpipe.

Dante still struggled against him, but Vergil could feel him weakening; Ebony slipped loosely from his grasp. The elder twin pressed both his thumbs into the sensitive underside of Dante's jaw as he panted for both of them. Through the driving rain, he could barely make out his brother's half-closed, clouded eyes, unseeing now— he was almost choked out—

Practically on a whim, Vergil glanced down in time to see Dante's groping fingers close around the hilt of the katana he had discarded; he had no choice but to relinquish his grip and roll to the side as the silvery blade whistled past his head.

o-o-o

Gulping desperate lungfuls of cold, stinging air, Dante slowly felt the pressure in his ears dissipate. Squinting against the pelting rain, still gripping Yamato in one hand, he released the amulet with his other and raised it to his bruised and aching throat.

The unrelentingly vengeful rain was rendering hearing impossible now, and vision almost equally useless. Dante could vaguely make out his brother's blurred outline a few meters away— he was on all fours, but his head was raised.

Dante's muscles screamed in agonizing protest as he struggled clumsily to his feet— he clutched at the wound in his stomach as though to catch any entrails that might attempt to escape his body during the effort to stand. Yamato couldn't weigh even a third of Rebellion, but it felt like pure lead in his hand, and he couldn't help scraping its tip along the pavement as he staggered through the rain toward his brother.

As he neared, Vergil made a movement as though to stand, instead his body twisted oddly and Dante felt a boot connect solidly with his shin. He fell forward, and landed heavily, squarely on top of his older twin. Vergil grunted as his dead weight settled on his chest, and Yamato's tip buried itself in the pavement mere millimeters from his ear.

A few drops of blood landed on Vergil's pale cheek and slid quickly away with the rain; Dante realized that his nose was bleeding and he wondered absently for how long. He knew they were both at their limits, and he suddenly realized that the amulet chained around his neck was now resting against his brother's chest.

Vergil was raising a hand toward it slowly, and in his drained languor, Dante couldn't even muster the strength to lift a finger in resistance.

In a rain-drenched, dreamlike state, he watched Vergil's long fingers close around the deep ruby amulet… but his twin did not tear it from his neck, he only stared between the raindrops with empty eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

It was a long moment, but a prickling sensation was now creeping up his spine. Dante was aware that his heartrate had increased; he could feel a burning heat around his wound as his reawakening demonic blood set about healing the ragged hole Yamato had ripped in him.

Beneath his now burning body he could sense his brother's strength returning as well—the languid moment was almost ready to expire. With the exhaustion ebbing from his muscles and strength returning, he was suddenly aware of his erection pressed stiffly against Vergil's abdomen.

With a burning humiliation scalding his cheeks, he realized his twin must be aware of his arousal as well (how could he not be!), and Dante recoiled and leapt off Vergil's body to his feet as quickly as he could.

Immediately, he knew his mistake— cursed himself for it as he felt the chain break; in his embarrassment, he had forgotten the amulet was still clenched in his brother's hand. Now he was standing, breathing heavily, feeling the hard rain pound his body as he watched Vergil climb smoothly to his feet clutching the amulet, the broken chain dangling from between his fingers.

o-o-o

Vergil smiled; "My thanks, brother," he called over the beating rain, gripping Yamato and extracting it from the pavement. He directed the tip toward Dante's heaving chest. "Now Father's sword."

His younger twin was glaring daggers at him through piercing eyes slitted against the punishing weather. He could feel his brother's furious humiliation, and it prompted a slow stirring in his own loins.

The dragon was rearing its head within his chest again, but this time he opened his will to it, allowed it to bring a lazy smile to his lips. The violently lustful instincts that had drowned his common sense the night before had been far from satiated— and they reawakened, roaring and clawing, as he felt his own demonic strength flood back… as he watched Dante's confused face contort in angry shame.

His brother's curious three-pronged weapon was still lying on the ground; Dante had drawn Ebony and Ivory instead, but he made no move to shoot.

Vergil took a few slow steps forward through the rain and picked Cerberus up; it was oddly cold. _Must be an uncomfortable weapon to wield_, he mused, and experimentally flicked it through the air.

o-o-o

Vergil swung Cerberus with a natural grace, and for a moment, Dante was struck by the concept of how he and his brother mirrored eachother… in appearance and movement at least, if not in personality.

The thought was fleeting though, and he gripped his twin pistols and rapidly squeezed off half a clip with each. Vergil easily deflected the rounds by windmilling the sanchaku before him, scattering raindrops and bits of metal alike in a whirl of crystalline ice. He still held Yamato in his other hand, the amulet chain now wrapped around his wrist.

Dante holstered the pistols and reached for Force Edge as Vergil sprang forward, dual-wielding the odd combination of sword and sanchaku; he blocked Yamato's strike, but felt one of Cerberus' rods extend around his body and strike him forcefully in the small of his back.

He staggered once and wrenched Force Edge downward with all his strength, sending Yamato flying from his twin's grasp; the blade spun through the air and buried itself in the pavement several meters away— in the same move, Sparda's sword sliced its way across Vergil's torso, opening a gaping slash from his shoulder to his hip.

But even as the sword was slipping from his hand, Vergil retaliated, whirling Cerberus around his body; the chain wrapped itself around Force Edge's blade and all three icy, spiked prongs struck Dante full in the face.

He was blinded by pain and blood, and for a split second, he allowed himself to admire his brother's versatility before he crashed, dazed, to the ground.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes:** This is the final chapter of the _abridged version of Antidote_. The full version contains _8 chapters + an epilogue_; the final chapters have been omitted from this submission due to extreme adult content.

The full version of Antidote can be viewed at AFF if you wish to continue the story.

Thanks for reading!

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Chapter VII

Vergil was standing with one foot on each of his hands, his fingers crushed against the wet concrete; he struggled to free himself, raising his shoulderblades off the ground and grunting with the effort. His eyes were still squinted against the blood and driving rain, but with an abrupt prick of foreign panic, he felt his brother swiftly wrap Cerberus' icy chain around his neck.

This was all wrong. He choked more on frustration than from the cold metal links pinching his throat; he remembered the similarly rain-scoured night atop the Temen-ni-gru… his own pernicious defeat there. This wouldn't be a repeat of that, he swore to himself, even as he gasped when Vergil drove two of Cerberus' blunt prongs through the palms of his hands, effectively pinning him to the now-cracked concrete.

Straining against his own weapon (which had been utilized so grimly against his favor), Dante hurled a leg up and felt his heavy boot connect solidly with his brother's chin; Vergil reeled back and fell to one knee.

The crystal sanchaku was strangling him now, its chain pulling tighter across his throat with every vindictive struggle. His brother had only to take Force Edge, and leave him lying helpless and thwarted in the downpour. He closed his eyes and let his jaw fall open; the freezing drops of rain pelted his face and slipped between his parted lips, stinging his tongue. Cool air was making its way to into his lungs now, but barely; he had to keep absolutely still to prevent Cerberus from asphyxiating him.

Slowly, he became vaguely aware that the rain was no longer beating on his bare chest and stomach. Instead, a warmer, thicker liquid was flowing over his skin. He opened his eyes to a curtain of white hair as Vergil straddled his body and leaned in close; he could feel his twin's warm breath against his cheek; blood from Vergil's wound was flooding over his body.

"Without strength, you cannot protect anything," Vergil whispered in a husky, pained voice, echoing his words from Temen-ni-gru, his lips brushing Dante's ear. The younger twin squirmed uncomfortably, feeling a now-familiar clenching in his abdomen as his brother's weight settled across him.

"Why do you insist on resisting everything your body craves?" Vergil's hand was sliding down his stomach now, and unbidden, Dante's pants were growing irrepressibly tighter.

"You…" he panted, as Cerberus grated against his Adam's apple… but he didn't finish the sentence; he had no idea what he was even trying to say. He was shivering now, but not from cold; Vergil's hand was resting low on his flat stomach, and he was sure his brother must be able to feel butterflies beneath his palm.

o-o-o

Vergil was feeling faint, but he couldn't be sure whether it was from passion or pain… or perhaps both. He could feel his life's blood draining from his body; it was dripping onto Dante's stomach, and he was smearing it across his younger brother's pale, shivering skin with a gentle hand.

Dante… he had always been the overzealous one, the one with the driving, ruthless sexuality. It brought a twisted smile to Vergil's lips to contemplate the strange reversal at play here.

He lifted his head to stare into his brother's face; through the intermittent lightning, he could see that Dante's cheeks were pale and his lips were tinged slightly blue from lack of air. His eyes remained clear though, and Vergil let his gaze slide down to the cold chain that was biting into his twin's vulnerably exposed throat.

His need was growing more urgent, more insistent; he wanted to hear Dante gasp and groan again, to feel tight muscles clench around him. He pressed his own warm lips against Dante's blood-starved cold ones, dipping his tongue into his brother's mouth, tasting him. He slipped his hand beneath his younger twin's waistband, feeling a burning heat there which only intensified his own hungry passion.

Choking and with both hands pinned, there wasn't much the younger brother could do to resist, but Vergil felt Dante's thighs tense as he unzipped his pants and drew him out and into his hand. He kissed him harder, tongue probing, and instead of teeth blocking him, he felt a light pressure as his brother tentatively began to reciprocate.

Vergil gently pulled away, Dante's now-hungry tongue lingering after him, skimming his lips as he withdrew. He slowly began to ease a trail of light nips along his brother's jawline, down across his throat, past the flesh pinched between the links of chain. He alternately kissed and nibbled his way down his twin's chest, tasting his own salty blood.

Rain continued to deluge the exhausted, wounded twins, now tangled in a bloody embrace; the thunder no longer cracked over their heads, but flashes of lightning still illuminated the sanguine scenery they had painted across the deserted street.

Antidote (Abridged) FIN


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